


it’s the winter effect, love

by lenyan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things but there's no +1??, But thats later, Canon Compliant, Endearments, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Winter, but not really?, happy holidays, what to even tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28311039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenyan/pseuds/lenyan
Summary: Despite getting sick almost every year, Atsumu decides that the winter season isn’t so bad.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 18
Kudos: 94





	it’s the winter effect, love

“What did you think of me when we first met?” Rintarou asks, his breath hitting the left side of his cheek, warm and ticklish. Atsumu just grins wolfishly and looks up into the air where the sky is painted with gray clouds and devoid of snow which he silently wishes to fall. At least it’s not that windy, so Atsumu will take that blessing.

“Hm… love at first sight?” Atsumu suggests, smugly posing a hand underneath his chin while Rintarou just rolls his eyes. “Hope ya don’t get too big of a head there, Rin.”

“The only one here with a big head is you,” Rintarou sighs, lightly poking at his forehead as a sign of endearment and Atsumu cracks a triumphant smirk at the poorly hidden intention. “You and that inflated ego of yours.” Rintarou huffs, looking away and Atsumu leans into his larger figure. A pulse of warmth palpitates throughout his chest as Rintarou slowly latches into his shoulder with care.

“You flatter me,” Atsumu says as he cranes his neck up to get closer to Rintarou's face, trying to look as seductive as possible. Rintarou pushes his gloved hand into his face and Atsumu laughs into the thick fabric.

A small gust of cold wind blows past them and Atsumu almost shrinks into himself from the cold that travels up his spine. His gaze looks back to Rintarou’s kissable face and lips which are slightly curved upwards into a small smile that he can also see in the other’s eyes. Even though it’s unbearably cold like this, he thinks it’s worth it since Rintarou looks unbelievably glorious in the winter.

“Nice…” he can hear himself comment under his breath as Rintarou looks at him in concern (more as a joke than anything) with creased eyebrows. “Just thinkin’ about how winter isn’t that bad.”

“Even though you complain about getting sick all the time?” Rintarou prompts and Atsumu pouts at his words. “What? It’s true.”

A crooked smile makes its way onto Atsumu’s face as he reaches out to stroke the flesh of Rintarou’s cheek with his thumb and closes the distance between them. He gets on his toes and presses his cold lips onto Rintarou's warm forehead while a speck of snow simultaneously kisses his cheek and melts.

* * *

> I. Snow

“And so winter begins,” Atsumu states ominously as a frail flake of snow flutters down from the air and lands in the curve of his palm. The icy crystal shrinks and sprouts into a small droplet of water which trickles out and off the tip of his index finger.

“What weird shit are you sayin’ now?” Osamu asks as he stumbles out of the house after Atsumu. 

His expression is the epitome of "disgusting". Atsumu treats him to the aggressive "I really don't care" look. They glare at one another for a good thirty seconds.

Osamu narrows his eyes. “We don’t have time for this. I want to get some—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts to stop his stupid brother from finishing his sentence. Atsumu straightens out his jacket one last time and begins to walk. “We’ll get some of those cookies you like and then get the stuff mom wants.”

Osamu doesn’t reply and they set off together, walking through the plains of snow which softly break apart in hushed crunches under their feet with each step. Atsumu absolutely loathes the weather during this time of the year and spring, it’s the golden time for fever season to spike, and along with it comes the possibility of him getting sick. If he wants to keep playing volleyball everyday, he can’t afford to get sick. They’re plodding along thoughtlessly and Atsumu spots a rather large lump of snow on the side of the road. He glances to his side to see Osamu staring off in the distance where cars pass by and he takes his chance. Sometimes Aran comments on how childish he is and how that streak of his can land him into some serious trouble. But Atsumu could hardly care and this is _Osamu_ so of course he's going to—

Atsumu can hear the soft impact of the snow slamming into the side of Osamu’s face followed by it crumbling apart in an instant. He doesn’t even realize it—he doesn’t have to—but he can vaguely feel a sneer suddenly present on his face as Osamu stiffly bends over and begins to roll a large lump of snow. Atsumu backs away, but a large slab of snow engulfs him and all he can feel is cold pinpricks tickling every inch of his exposed skin, courtesy of Osamu. The cold water begins to soak into his head which tingles on his head while brushing off all the snow. He picks up another ball of snow, patting it firmly into his glove, and flings it at Osamu. They both engage in a snowball fight, him yelling out random insults while Osamu just retaliates by making his snowballs even bigger. How cold. Literally.

Atsumu launches another handful of snowballs and Osamu ducks. His eyes widen when he sees a familiar face standing behind his brother. Or well, a familiar figure since his face is now covered in snow. Suna wipes off the wet slush on his face, his nose gradually turning red. He's holding his phone in one outstretched hand devoid of snow which makes Atsumu relieved since it's one of those expensive touch screen ones. Suna is wearing a dark blue padded jacket and a black scarf that's hastily wrapped around his neck.

"What the fuck," he says ever so bluntly while wiping at his cheeks, his fingertips dyed with a touch of red.

"Ah, sorry about that," Osamu apologizes as Atsumu cackles at Suna's appearance.

He's laughing and suddenly he has a mouthful of ice that is almost traveling down his throat. Atsumu chokes and coughs the snow out, looking up to see Osamu snickering at him and Suna readily holding his phone. Ah, classic old Suna, Atsumu thinks as he grabs more handfuls of snow and chucks them at the two standing before him. Osamu dodges and begins to bunch up a huge mass of snow on the ground while Suna catches his snowball with a small grin. Atsumu takes the initiative, tackling Suna into the snow. The impact is soft but stiff and Atsumu is about to take another bundle of snow to tackle the startled Suna under him—

When they're both buried under a huge rush of snow.

"'Samu!" Atsumu screams as he tries to fight his way out of the snow. It's cold, damp, and dark, but he can feel the warmth of Suna under him. He gropes around for a way out, maybe slapping Suna's face on accident a few times, (maybe put some quotation marks on a few of those accidents), and breaks out into the surface. He lets out a long sigh of air, fog stretching out from his mouth, as Suna pops out of the snow right after him. 

Osamu kicks his behind, a jab of pain shooting through him. "Get up. Yer makin' a scene, weirdo."

"Oh fuck off!" Atsumu snarls as he pulls himself off of Suna who's still half-buried in snow.

He watches Suna slowly stand, the snow falling from his puffy jacket, and sighs. A puff of air exits from Suna's lips and into the air as the brunette begins to brush the snow off from his pants. He grabs a fistful of snow and throws it at Atsumu's neck, who squawks, the snow exploding in ice-cold pain that's quickly numbed away.

"That's for getting some in my nose," Suna says as he presses down on one nostril, blowing a few chunks of snow out of his nose.

"You chicken shit…" Atsumu begins to grumble when a speck of white falls under Suna's eye.

The three of them look up into the cold, gray sky to see flakes of ice falling through the air and raining down all around them like powdered sugar.

"It's snowing," Osamu comments quietly to break the fragile silence. Atsumu is about to reply, thinking to call Osamu stupid or something, but then his gaze lands on Suna.

Suna is looking into the air, dotted with falling bits of snow that float down and touch his skin, cold and wet. Flakes begin to gather in his hair and onto his clothes and his skin is gradually growing a warm red around his nose and cheeks from the cold air that digs into Atsumu's skin. Still, his moonlight eyes never tear away from the gray sky and a light puff of air fills the air around his lips which steadily tint blue. Suna still stares up at the sky and Atsumu still looks at him. The cold air in his lungs is ripped out through his throat and past his lips leaving him breathless and tingly all over, putting him in a daze.

* * *

> II. Scarf

"...it's cold," Atsumu mutters as he huddles closer to Aran, hiding behind his broad back from the cold breeze blowing across his skin. "Goin' to shrines in this weather? It's _cold_."

"Do you wanna get cursed by the gods?" Osamu asks, next to Gin and Suna who are pointing in the trees, probably looking at a bird or something.

"The gods curse me every year by makin’ me sick," Atsumu argues as he glares up into the sky through a gap where the clouds have parted, revealing a sliver of a vast blue emptiness that stretches upwards forever. There’s no snow falling today (and begrudgingly he might just thank said gods for that) but Atsumu still feels like one of the many ice cream tubs Osamu has been stashing away in the back of the freezer. They walk towards a shrine and clap their hands together, praying to the gods to succeed at nationals. Spring High is around the corner, and they’ve passed qualifiers, so he’s excited. Even though Atsumu is told he should at least pray as a safeguard, he has faith in himself and his spikers that they can win. So instead, he prays that he doesn’t get sick like he often does during fever season. He sometimes wishes he had Osamu’s immune system because it’s extremely unfair for the universe to make him sick and then having Osamu being the one who has to take care of him. 

He’s taken back to the times where he feels feverish and utterly ill, shards of black and white exploding behind the curtains of his eyelids which sting the back of his head. He would feel hot, sweaty, and achy all over his body, unwilling to move a muscle. Atsumu would complain every time he had to open his eyes and mouth to drink water or eat the porridge that Osamu would make for him. If he refused to eat, Osamu would wrench open his mouth and shove down the flavorless mush, the warm mash moving down his dry throat.

Terrible times.

Their captain rings the bell and they each drop a coin through the shafts of the shrine. They all buy luck strips and Atsumu is about to unravel his when he sneezes.

“Are you kidding me…?!” he mutters angrily, trying to hunch behind Osamu who has gotten about an inch taller than him (another thing that the universe has unjustly inflicted onto him).

“What are you doin’?” Osamu asks, opening his luck strip. Atsumu grips his paper in a feeble hold with his fingers.

“It’s cold!” he whines again and Osamu turns around, but not moving from the spot from where Atsumu is cowering behind him.

He blows warm air onto his fingers and carefully begins to open his slip of paper again. Another gentle gust blows over them, freezing him down to the core. On his arm, goosebumps grow on goosebumps. Atsumu disconcertedly rubs the sides of his arms up and down, desperately trying to warm them under the padding of his coat. It’s so cold even Osamu slightly stumbles and quietly curses under his breath about going home and making some ramen to eat later. Atsumu thinks it’s a great idea for once, but before he can even commend the idea his teeth clack against one another when he opens his mouth. He tries to keep his lips sealed shut but his teeth continue to incessantly chatter anyway and he quickly grows annoyed by this development. 

“Stupid wind and the stupid cold,” Atsumu groans, his eyes squeezing shut in exasperation at these words. 

Osamu sighs and reads his fortune slip. “For once I can agree with you. Ah. I got good luck.”

The blonde looks over at his brother, mostly unfazed by the wind’s crazy temperature. He grumbles to himself and tries to open the stupid paper, but his fingers are cold and stiff. Trying to close his fingers in on the paper, he fumbles against the material and slowly begins to open it. 

“Fuck—”

Something falls on his face. Warm fabric envelopes him and his vision goes dark. With one hand he yanks off the thing blinding him and looks down in his grip to see a black scarf. When he observes the scarf even more closely, he sees that it belongs to Suna. Suna, who is holding a fortune strip in one hand and slipping the other hand into his jacket pocket, shrugs.

"You looked cold," he comments and walks off to catch up to Gin who is tying his strip onto the ropes with some of the others.

Osamu sighs, looking at Suna's retreating back. "Sometimes he's too nice to _noisy_ idiots like you."

Atsumu wraps Suna's scarf around his neck and sniffs. It smells faintly of some woodsy scent he can’t quite place his finger on. The earthiness tickles the tip of his nose and he feels a bit warmer than before. He breathes warm air onto his cold, stiff fingers and rolls open the paper. Looking up, he gazes at Suna who's talking to Gin about where to tie his luck strip.

"Whatever you say," Atsumu says, looking at the great fortune slip resting between two of his rigid fingers.

* * *

> III. Snowman

"Yer snowman looks stupid, 'Samu," Atsumu informs Osamu to let him know how bad his crafting skills are. "It looks like it's dyin'."

Osamu looks over in his direction, unfazed by the remark. "Well, that's because I'm modelin' it after you, 'Tsumu."

"We both know that's not true!"

"Well, it is now!"

They both aggressively pat the snow on their snowmen while glaring at one another. Gah, at this rate they'll never finish building a team of snowmen. Atsumu blames his brother.

"What are you two doin'?" a voice asks which causes Atsumu and Osamu to stop and look up. Gin is standing there, observing the masses of snow they're constructing. "Is this supposed to be me?"

"Ah, you could tell?" Atsumu asks as Gin pokes the snowman carefully like it would spring to life and gobble him up in an instant.

"Where's me?" another voice asks and Atsumu turns to see it's Suna who's examining the snowman Osamu is creating. His phone is nestled within the grasp of his hands as usual. Suna shuffles up to the snowman Osamu is working on. "Is this Atsumu?"

There's a strange sensation that shocks him from his chest and he lets out a cough. "It's actually 'Samu, but now he's makin' it look like me."

"Yeah and suddenly I've lost the motivation to finish it," his brother says in a mocking tone as he leaves the Atsumu-snowman half-made and sad. "I'm gonna make Aran now."

"What?! _I_ was gonna make Aran!" Atsumu shouts as he tries to hurriedly finish the Akagi snowman he's been working on.

Gin, who went silent during their argument, steps aside and unveils his work. "Look! It's Kita-san!"

The blonde turns to look at Gin's Kita-snowman and begins to laugh. "Bahahahaha yer right! It looks just like him!"

Osamu puts a hand over his mouth, stifling a laugh and Suna makes sure to record the snowman well.

"Now move, 'Samu!" Atsumu orders as he bumps his brother to the side. "I'm makin' Aran."

"No, I am!" the other argues as he whips off Atsumu's hat from his head. The two argue and push at each other.

He can hear Gin talking to Suna. "We're second years and we set such a bad example."

"Well, I don't mind or care. To be honest we should all be taking after Kita-san if we were to be the perfect definition of a role model," Suna nonchalantly replies as he steadily holds out his phone to record him and Osamu fight. "Here, you guys can both make Aran and we'll judge whose was better."

"Suna, yer a genius!" Atsumu and Osamu exclaim simultaneously, they both stop pulling each other's hair and clawing at one another.

"I'm gonna make a better Aran!"

"No, I am!"

"Idiot twins," Atsumu hears Suna remark as the other turns away to look at one of the snowmen.

Atsumu hyper focuses on perfectly replicating Aran in snowman form, sculpting the snow very carefully. He carves out Aran's nose with meticulous care when he looks up to see what Gin and Suna are doing. Gin is altering the Atsumu-snowman and morphing it's smiley face into a blank expression while Suna is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Sunarin? And what are you doin'?" Atsumu asks just as Gin turns around to glance at Osamu.

"Makin' Osamu," he replies as he draws flat eyebrows to illustrate Osamu's emotionless expression. "Sunarin went to go grab somethin'."

"I see…" Atsumu murmurs quietly, his gaze looking out into the distance, but then he fixes his stare back onto Aran-snowman.

"Aran's head looks way too big there, ‘Tsumu. Did the back of his head mutate or somethin’?” Osamu comments while averting his eyes to show how pathetic he thinks Atsumu's snowman looks.

"Shut yer trap, ‘Samu! _Yers_ looks like its nose suddenly decided to grow a tumor," Atsumu bites back, the two of them resuming their glaring contest.

They halt their mini clash at the sound of Gin's laughter ringing through the air. Atsumu turns to see Suna standing next to Gin, their backs facing towards them. Atsumu slinks over to see what they're looking at.

"It's not finished," Suna says, holding a bundle of sticks that diverge into different paths, raising their arms in defiance. He carefully places those sticks on the head of the snowman that was made next to the Osamu-snowman Gin was working on.

"Hey, that one's the same height as me," Osamu comments, pointing at the Atsumu-snowman. "I'm taller."

Suna pauses placing sticks on the top of the mound of snow and begins to remove them. "You're right." He skims off the top of the snowman and continues to put down sticks. "There."

"Better," Osamu agrees as Gin hides his smile.

"Oi…" Atsumu says, his eyes glued on Suna's maroon gloves sprinkled with snow that continue to decorate the snowman.

"Sorry, I'm striving for accuracy," Suna tells him unapologetically while removing his hat and scarf swiftly. "Did anyone make me yet?"

"Uh, no not yet," Atsumu replied and he's struck with a realization. "Wait--"

"Well, guess I'll just use this for yours then," Suna continues without a pause, wrapping his black scarf around the neck of the Atsumu-snowman and placing the hat on top. A fine touch.

"I see," Osamu comments and Suna sends him a look which makes Atsumu's stomach lurch for a split second.

"Guess I'll make mine then," the brunette exhales as he begins to roll a ball of snow, the soft crunches trickling into Atsumu's ears like rain when, ironically, there's only snow all around.

Gin, who had taken Suna's leftover sticks to finish Osamu-snowman, also began to start a new snowman next to Suna. "So, what clothes are ya gonna give yerself?"

Suna glimpses behind at Atsumu and answers without missing a beat. "His."

Osamu chuckles and Atsumu feels left out of the loop. Hello, did the universe decide to not give him the signal or something today? He peers at Suna's face which has gone back flat, only his eyes gleaming under the bangs of his hair. It barely resembles what he saw before, his expression slightly pinched when adding the finer details to Atsumu-snowman: his nose beginning to scrunch and his eyebrows slightly knitting together in concentration as his eyes focus only on the snow. He recalls Suna sticking out a bit of tongue in concentration while adding on sticks and an upward curve of his mouth when adding the additional scarf and hat on top. His stomach feels tumultuous all of a sudden. It’s nothing. Atsumu turns back to look at the Atsumu-snowman donning Suna’s clothes with pride and he feels entranced. It’s nothing.

* * *

> IV. Hands

"I think I hate the wintertime," Atsumu declares, full of conviction as he presses his hands together and blows air to warm them for the fiftieth time this month. He had decided to throw his gloves into the laundry after he had spilled milk onto them this morning. Now he had to suffer under the harsh temperatures of the cold. “Do we have to—”

“Coach is treating us to the ramen,” Osamu interrupts, his eyes feral and only thinking of one thing: food. It briefly reminds Atsumu of that gnawing feeling eating away at his stomach whenever he looks at Osamu nowadays. It irks him.

Atsumu laughs it off. “Ha! Yer always thinkin’ about food, ‘Samu! Yer not thinkin’ about nationals around the corner?”

“Any time is food time,” his brother insists which causes Atsumu to pause and he doesn’t say anything after. He pushes the thought and conversation aside to direct his attention elsewhere.

“Anyway, where is everyone else?” Atsumu asks as he shivers and rubs his reddening nose which makes him resemble a certain reindeer. It’s a futile attempt since his hands are just as cold. “I can’t stand freezin’ my ass off in this cold any longer!”

“Atsumu, Osamu,” their coach says, approaching from behind them. “Yer here early.” Trailing behind him are Kita and a few of the other third and first years.

He sees Gin and Suna arrive and enter the restaurant right after the others. The room has a quiet and warm ambience to it, the walls being some complex shade of pea green. The unique color exudes the essence of elegance, but the smells and sounds in the kitchen and of the people eating make it sound like home. At this time there are very few people, but the hum of their chatter makes it sound lively and comforting; they're not alone. There are different booths scattered inside the room and a row of red stools at the counter which extend and curve around to touch the walls. They all fill the stools and other seats while their coach just laughs nervously and eyes his wallet. The third years dominate most of the stool seats because of their special privilege so Gin, Suna, Atsumu, and Osamu are seated all the way at the ends which touch the far left wall. Osamu is talking to the rest of them about what he recommends for them to eat, so obviously, Atsumu ignores him and orders his usual.

While Atsumu quietly slurps up his noodles trapped inside the grip of his chopsticks, he can see Suna blowing the heat off the spoonful of broth next to him. He notes how Suna's cheeks puff up as his eyes sparkle as the liquid touches his taste buds. Atsumu is eating and taking occasional glances at Suna who just continues to eat unknowingly. Suna likes the pork in his ramen and avoids eating greenery on its own as he couples them with noodles. Sometimes when he puts too much food in his mouth his cheeks puff up resembling a chipmunk, making his chest lurch a bit (probably because it reminds him of Osamu and the weird sinking pit in his stomach so he ignores it). His hands are lightly brushed with red but are gradually receding back to normal. The lightning on Suna's hair makes it shine dimly and brings out the color of his eyes better than he thought it would. It makes him wonder what he would look like under the glow of the winter sky and the snow.

Atsumu pauses these thoughts while continuing to shove a piece of naruto into his mouth. What is he even doing? Well, does it even matter?

Gin makes a joke about something that happened during their English class and Atsumu chimes into the conversation.

He spares a glance back at Suna who's now looking at him. Atsumu jumps a little and tries to discreetly look away. Next to him, Osamu finishes his extremely large bowl of ramen and looks ready to order another despite the coach's face becoming paler by the minute.

"Hot chocolate, Osamu…! How about some hot chocolate?!" the coach asks, trying to dangle different options in hopes Osamu will select the cheaper one.

The look in Osamu's eyes makes Atsumu feel a little angry. He feels his hand curl up into itself underneath the counter. It's the sensation akin to putting something off for too long and the realization coming back to bite you.

"Whoa, that's some glare you got going on there," Suna calmly informs him. Atsumu faces the other and just grunts tacitly. Their words are muted to other ears under the veil of multiple other conversations in the room.

"Whatever," the blonde huffs, trying not to express his frustration to the other.

Suna stays silent and glances around. "Is it Osamu?" His voice is so quiet that Atsumu can hear thumping at the back of his head.

"I—"

"Ah, hot chocolate is the best! Sunarin you should try some!" Gin exclaims and Suna slowly turns away. Atsumu just stares at the back of his head as if it would make him look back. Whatever, he'll bring it up later since Osamu is stuffing way too many marshmallows into one cup of hot chocolate.

When everyone finishes eating, they step back out into winter's cold grasp once more, a breeze blowing Atsumu's blonde bangs out of his eyes as he watches the snow flutter uselessly through the air and its forceful breeze. Atsumu can feel his skin prickle from the cold and instinctively tightens his coat. He runs his tongue over his lips, licking the leftover froth that leaves a residual taste of thick, sweet chocolate coating the tip of his tongue, sticky warm. Osamu goes back in to use the bathroom and the team disperses to go back home. Atsumu exhales, his mouth breathing vapor in the air. It's just him and Suna standing under the dim lamplight in front of the ramen place while Osamu takes his sweet time inside. Atsumu glances over to see Suna rub his hands in small motions and close them to blow in warm air. His hands are like his: gloveless and cold.

"So? Do ya need somethin' from 'Samu?" Atsumu asks haughtily and Suna looks at him when asked. He sees right through him.

"Actually I do," Suna answers quietly, his gaze averting to the door inside. "I bought him a drink before break started. He owes me."

"Ah," Atsumu says, then remembering the other thing he wanted to ask. "Oh yeah. What were ya goin' to tell me? About 'Samu?"

Suna doesn't say anything for a moment, looking into the distance, then inquires. "You can't tell?"

"Tell _what_ you—" Atsumu begins to spit when Osamu emerges after opening the door.

"Didya wait long?" Osamu asks and Atsumu clicks his tongue.

"I was beginnin' to think you were gonna leave us to freeze to death," he says and Osamu waves a dismissive hand in response.

"Didn't ask you."

"You—!"

Osamu begins to walk away, Suna follows, so Atsumu has no choice but to follow suit in petulant silence. The three of them stand side by side, walking through the winter night towards home. Atsumu blows into his hands, trying to keep them warm while Suna does the same. Osamu gives them an amused look and trudges on ahead. He's about to call his brother stupid but then looks at Suna's hands.

"You cold?" he asks, the words finding themselves past his lips without his consent.

Suna looks over at him and huffs out a small breath of laughter which forms white airy wisps in the air. “What do you think?”

“I should have worn gloves,” Atsumu grouses under his breath and Suna slightly nods in agreement.

In the dark under all the street lights, the flakes of ice look like they’ve grown soft like cotton as they endlessly drift about. Some land in Suna’s hair and some might have gotten into his own nose. He hears the fallen shaven snow grind and crush against the flat bottoms of his boots. Suddenly, it feels like they’re walking forever. His hands are cold and sore, he grits his teeth while flexing them uselessly.

“You should ask Osamu to hold your hand,” he hears Suna sarcastically comment. Atsumu doesn’t answer for a moment as if his mind is silently processing information separately from his consciousness. He decides that the idea isn’t bad so he grabs the one closest to him. Suna’s hand slightly twitches and then stills against his. Atsumu can feel the rough calluses on Suna's upper palm that have gotten more apparent with the rest of his skin having been overtaken by the wintry weather. 

_What are you doing?_

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing either—it’s weird being out of control—but oddly enough, he’s somehow fine with this. Suna doesn’t say anything and doesn’t show any signs of discontent so they stay just as they are. Atsumu takes a deep inhale of air that sharply burns cold through his nose and sends chills down the pipes of his lungs. There’s little warmth to be shared between him and Suna, but he’ll take what he can get. Perhaps it’s the same for the other. There’s a light stutter in his chest that strums a vibrato that touches his very bones.

Even though his nose feels like it’s about to fall off, his cheeks feel like the surface of a cube, and his eyes feel as though they would tear up from the wind despite the cold attacking his tear ducts, Atsumu’s hands are warm. His hands are warm and it’s suddenly enough for him. Even though he knows if he stays out too long in the snow like this that he’ll get sick, he wouldn’t mind walking forever.

* * *

> V. Rintarou

Atsumu likes his brother. Atsumu likes Aran. Atsumu likes his teammates and his friends. (Note, Atsumu will never easily admit the first statement). But whenever it's just Suna it's different. He likes Suna, but not in that way.

Or at least, that's what Osamu told him. And he thinks he believes it too. For the past few days before break started and throughout, Atsumu has been wallowing in his thoughts while trying to sort out his feelings.

"I hate you," Atsumu tells Osamu, who's lying on the bed below him.

"I only did you a favor," Osamu replies uncaringly as he turns over in his sheets to sleep.

Shit-ass.

Atsumu clicks his tongue and looks up at the void in the ceiling above his bed that seems to expand in the neverending darkness.

When they first talk about it, Atsumu denies every accusation Osamu has for him. Nevertheless the other presses him about it and the feeling is confirmed when Osamu asks him one question:

"Would you be alright if someone else took him away?" Osamu offers and Atsumu can’t seem to answer.

Atsumu has never really cared about the thought of his teammates dating other people and hasn’t really sat down to think about it. But now the idea of Suna dating someone has been thrust into his attention, courtesy of Osamu, he doesn’t know how to exactly feel about that. He's pissed that he doesn't have a response since he's never _separately_ considered Suna with someone else paired with the newfound discovery of his feelings. 

God, he could gag.

Atsumu has seen Suna reject people before and felt nothing at the time, but the thought of it now makes the sickening butterflies in his stomach vanish and he feels relieved. Now he feels stupid because he hasn't ever thought about how Suna thought about him. God, it's frustrating feeling this way since he hasn't felt so _unsure_ before.

Atsumu dreams about a blizzard. He's inside and it seems like he's sitting inside his house but at the same time doesn't. He can't tell if the fire is warming him at all or if he feels nothing. He can feel and see everything, but it never fully reaches him; feeling detached. It's like a thin film separates him from fully experiencing the atmosphere surrounding him. The door rings, faintly echoing throughout the house and he automatically stands up at the sound. His joints feel stiff and loose at the same time. His hand grabs the knob, feeling nothing, and opens the door.

"Suna?" he asks, but his words sound garbled to him, making it sound like he's underwater.

Suna seems to perceive the words fine. "It's cold."

"Huh?" Atsumu says, touching his skin. It's so cold it's hot. Or at least that's what he thinks it feels like. He can't tell.

Suna turns and begins to run straight into the blizzard. Atsumu stumbles, trying to go after him. Bracing himself, he lands in the snow barefoot and barely suited up for such weather. He’s expecting to feel some pain, but he feels nothing so he tears off after Suna without a second thought. The wind appears to be blowing his hair wildly, but he doesn’t feel anything. Outstretching his hand, he almost touches the taller boy, when the other suddenly bursts forward and opens a door that happens to be standing there in the middle of nowhere. It shines brightly and Atsumu can’t see what’s inside. It clicks shut and he wrenches it open to meet a bright light that doesn’t allow him to see. The light shines and it sears the back of his eyes, blinding him.

The dream ends and Atsumu wakes up to Osamu’s voice and a pillow smacking his face.

A few days later, Atsumu is waiting for the arrival of Christmas that is slowly approaching in a couple days. He squats in front of the tree, poking one of the decorative ornaments that Osamu made when he was younger: an onigiri. He lets out a loud groan and just flicks the cheap decor.

“What are you doin’ with that stupid look on yer face?” Osamu asks, squatting down next to him. He takes one glance at Atsumu’s expression and laughs. “Don’t tell me. Yer actually pinin’ for Sunarin right now?”

“I am not!” Atsumu exclaims, a bit too loudly which gives him away. He crosses his arms and frowns. “This is all yer fault anyway—”

“It’s not,” his brother interrupts, flicking him straight in the forehead. It leaves a painful sting that lingers and Atsumu touches the sore spot with a scowl. “It’s yer fault for fallin’ for him. Now all ya gotta do is tell him.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes. “Yeah right. As if it’s that simple.”

Osamu doesn’t say anything for a second and sighs. “Maybe it is.”

“Huh?”

“Yer absolutely useless when it comes to this, ‘Tsumu. It’s kinda sad.”

Atsumu is about to retort, but then Osamu stands up and walks away.

“Think a little harder,” the younger suggests and leaves to head upstairs.

Atsumu stares at where Osamu once was and just falls backwards on his bottom. “Yer makin’ no sense!”

He simply doesn’t understand. Well, he’s probably just telling Atsumu to come to terms with the fact that he likes Suna and needs to tell the other.

_I’ll tell him when I see him again,_ Atsumu decides as he stands up to go finish any assignments he hasn’t done for school.

It’s evening when the doorbell rings and Atsumu stops writing his essay to check it out. Osamu is in the bathroom, their father at work, and their mother has gone shopping.

“Did Mom lock herself out again?” he asks himself before he opens the door without much thought. He almost startles.

Suna is standing there. He’s enveloped from his neck to leg with a red padded coat that reaches his knees, a black scarf which is carefully wrapped around his neck, a pair of black gloves, and a set of brown earmuffs sit on his head. He looks as surprised as Atsumu does.

“Oh…” Suna says as if it wasn’t him he was expecting to see. “Hi.”

Atsumu suddenly remembers what he told himself just a few hours ago.

“...hey,” Atsumu replies, glancing around the house to see if Osamu is spying. “Give me a moment.”

He doesn’t even ask what Suna is there for, but the other doesn’t even mind that Atsumu is dragging him outside to an unknown location so Atsumu continues what he sought out to do. Kita’s voice resounds in his head to not catch a cold since nationals are coming up in a few weeks.

They’re outside, walking side by side under the setting sun which begins to dip below the horizon and stain the sky a mix of yellow which slowly fades into blue and purple hues from behind the clouds. Snow is sprinkling from the sky in meager amounts and the wind is nil.

“So why did you decide to stop by?” Atsumu asks, briefly looking over at Suna through the corner of his eye.

Suna held out his phone to show Atsumu a brief message from Osamu to Suna. “Osamu texted me.”

It takes him a few seconds, but all he can put together is that Osamu had something to do with him and Suna walking out here right now. Sneaky shit.

“It was good timing,” Atsumu informs Suna as they round a corner. The array of houses around them are left behind and they walk along the side of the street where few cars pass by. “I needed to talk to you about somethin’.”

A few seconds pass and Suna speaks. “And that would be?”

Atsumu stops walking and Suna immediately does as well. They’re standing on top of a bridge connecting two paths above a river that is now frozen because of the winter season. There’s little glistening under the transparent light that lightly touches the icy surface. The sun, shining far away beneath the clouds, flickers its last for the day and darkness slowly begins to consume the sky. It's so hilarious how he happens to stop on top of the obligatory random bridge where tropes are meant to happen. The cold is gentle today as if nature is also encouraging Atsumu. It takes a few seconds for Atsumu to realize that he’s hesitating. _Him_ of all people, hesitating. Out with it. There’s no point if he keeps it to himself anyway. That’s just how Atsumu is and always will be.

"Suna. I like you."

Silence and foggy breaths fill the short distance between the two of them and Atsumu grows more uncertain by the minute. There it is, another strange oddity that makes Suna different from everyone else.

_He makes me feel this way,_ Atsumu thinks, slowly glancing up at Suna's widened eyes. The reason why Atsumu even feels so nervous is _because_ of Suna.

Suna's eyes are wide and his pupils small. They then soften and he smiles in a way that makes Atsumu's chest skip a beat.

"So… how would you feel if I said that I liked you too?" Suna asks and Atsumu's chest blooms with happiness like flowers bursting forth in the spring.

"...Can I kiss you?" Atsumu asks and Suna nods.

"I—"

Atsumu cuts him off by pressing his lips onto Suna's. He feels warm. Atsumu's heart sings happily and he feels happiness curling all around the insides of his chest. He can taste the bitter hint of coffee on Suna’s lips and he hopes that whatever he ate is acceptable to the other. They pull apart and his gloved hands trace the outline of Suna’s face. He can feel Suna’s hands shift up to the back of his head.

At this point if they’re kissing they should move on to first-name basis.

“Okay,” Suna says. He kisses Atsumu. “I like you. A lot.”

Seeing Suna so flustered but calm at the same time sets off another chain of fireworks in his chest. It’s as if his brain has 600 ping. Atsumu could laugh.

“What a coincidence. Me too,” Atsumu laughs breathlessly and Suna kisses him again.

* * *

“ _That’s_ why you don't think the winter is that bad? Even though you get sick?” Rintarou asks, making a face. Atsumu just nods with a smile.

“I like you that much,” he answers full of confidence because he will take every chance he can get to compliment Rintarou.

"Pretty fucked up of you to kiss me before I even said yes," Rintarou tells him and Atsumu laughs, brushing a stray lock of hair in Rintarou's face. He then lightly dusts off the snow collecting on the brunette’s head. Rintarou does the same to his hair.

"I couldn't help it. Yer too pretty, Rin," he says, causing Rintarou to pull away and slightly flush to his satisfaction.

"Shady comments like that can only get you so far," his boyfriend mumbles, trying to show disinterest but failing miserably.

Atsumu inches closer to Rintarou and their noses slightly brush. In a whisper, he murmurs. "But it works on you, doesn't it?"

Rintarou leans away but Atsumu follows him. It’s starting to get cold, so Atsumu extends his arms and wraps them around Rintarou. The brunette leans down, brushes the snow off his jacket, and rests his chin on Atsumu's shoulder.

"So, when did you start liking me?" Atsumu slyly asks, tilting his head to get a better look at his boyfriend. Rintarou looks away. The blonde pokes at the other's cheek and Rintarou finally looks at him. "So?"

Rintarou slowly moves to Atsumu's ear and hovers closely. His lips barely touch Atsumu's ear and he hears a whisper. His breath warms his ear which has gone red from the cold.

"That's a secret."

"You fuck—" Atsumu starts to say but Rintarou interrupts his sentence with a kiss so warm it melts winter’s cold embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> I wish a happy holidays to the atsusuna community
> 
> Was inspired to write this after listening to Ricky Montgomery and other songs. Haha, atsusuna in the winter vibes how would that be? This is probably my gift that I worked on last minute so yeah hope you enjoy. Sorry if there's a lot of repetitive words, I need to work on using refreshing words. And god, the title and summary are horrendous. Not me struggling to post this for ten minutes because I still have no clue how ao3 works .
> 
> And damn suna on the national team that's probably the best thing that happened this holiday


End file.
